


Damage control

by voksen



Series: WKverse [64]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schuldig pretty much always wants to have the last word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damage control

The jangle of Mamoru's phone woke him from exhausted sleep. It took him a second to register what was going on, but by the second ring he was grabbing for it, knocking a clip of papers from his desk in his haste: it was the ringtone he'd assigned to Nagi, and after the reports of the night before, he desperately needed some answers.

He flipped it open, rubbing his face with his other hand and forcing himself to full wakefulness with the help of long practice. "Nagi-kun?"

"Not quite." Schuldig's voice was unmistakable, though Mamoru hadn't heard it in over a year, not since Koua. He couldn't help the soft hiss of his breath: Schuldig having Nagi's phone could mean several things, but none of them were good.

Schuldig, of course, heard it and laughed at him, grating, nasal, carrying Mamoru years back to that night when they'd killed Ouka-- he forced it sharply from his head. "What do you want?" he asked, pulling his laptop to him - still on from earlier in the night - and typing as quietly as possible, despite the artificial slowness that induced: if he could trace Nagi's phone silently, so that Schuldig didn't know...

"So cold, Bombay," Schuldig drawled in his ear, slow and easy; Mamoru could hear the smirk in it, could imagine the twist of his lips. "Oh no, it's Persia, now, isn't it? So ambitious. You've really grown up."

Mamoru's jaw tensed, but he kept his breathing steady and even. "What do you want, Schuldig?"

"A guy can't catch up with old friends these days without getting the third degree?"

 _"Old friends?"_

"You're so bitter," Schuldig said, sounding positively _pleased_. "Power not agreeing with you as much as you thought it would? Or maybe you miss your old job. It's just not the same, is it, having other people do your dirty work for you?"

"It's not dirty," Mamoru snapped, then closed his mouth sharply, furious at himself for letting Schuldig get under his skin when he knew better.

"Of course it's not. It's all about defending your honor, your family. Pity that's a bit smaller than it might have been..."

He was not going to let Schuldig bait him again. "What do you _really_ want?"

"Exactly what I said... to catch up with old friends. I decided to save the best for last."

That froze Mamoru's hands on the keyboard, sent him minimizing one window, opening another, rereading the report the agent he'd had watching Yohji had put in yesterday, the one that had sparked the night's bout of research. "For last?" he echoed.

There was a slight rasping noise on the other end of the phone, like something rough dragging across stone. "It was a hard choice between you and Fujimiya," Schuldig said conversationally. "You're both so proud, so fucking delusional. You guys have a lot in common, actually, right down to that nasty little thing for your sisters."

The blood drained out of Mamoru's face, but he forced himself to finish rereading the account: how Yohji had suddenly changed his behavior patterns, had come out of a bar with a tall red-haired man, had... had sex with him...

"Between you and me," Schuldig was going on, "he had better taste. Though I have to admit that secretary of yours isn't bad. Learned that from daddy, too, hmm?"

It hurt. As much as he didn't want to admit it, as much as he thought he'd put it all behind him, as much as he knew Schuldig was a liar and a sadist, it hurt to have to listen to it, to have all of it coming back again, and the tracer was running _so slowly_. "What did you do to Yohji?"

"Heard about that already? I'm surprised, your man is a terrible spy. Even _Ryou_ noticed him around." He laughed again, low and pleased. "But I just reminded him of a few things, that's all. Woke him up a little. I'm surprised you don't care about the others - is it just out of sight, out of mind, or am I getting ahead of myself?"

He _did_ care about the others, Mamoru told himself fiercely, even if Ken and Aya had moved on, even if Yohji was still amnesiac - they had been his friends, his teammates, and he remembered them fondly for it. "I suppose you want to talk about them," he said flatly, buying time to fix the strange problems that seemed to be cropping up with locating the cell phone's GPS.

"Mmm," Schuldig said, and had that been a _moan_ in his voice? "No, I really don't think I want to ruin all your surprises or do any more of your work for free than I already have. If anything, _you_ should be working for me, paying me back a little."

"I don't owe you anything."

"No? I lent you Nagi for _such_ a long time, and I know you made good use of him."

The leer in Schuldig's voice sent all the blood rushing back to Mamoru's face. It was more than clear what he had meant by that, and for him to know that...

"Yeah, I know all about it." Schuldig's voice cut off the thought, low, purring, almost throbbing; behind it, another rustle, some clicks. "And you're so creative, aren't you, Mamoru-kun? I guess it's not surprising that you're as willing to sell your body one way as another. It's just too bad you weren't good enough to keep him."

So Nagi had gone back to Schwarz, then, back to _Schuldig_ , and despite having known all along that it was possible - likely probable - jealousy, anger flared in him, white hot, and then disgust as Schuldig moaned into the phone, shamelessly.

" _God,_ that's sweet." He sounded far away suddenly. "Want to say something?" There was a pause, marred by Schuldig's breathing, just audible, and then he chuckled, the sound abruptly louder, closer, making Mamoru flinch slightly. "He doesn't feel like talking... too busy, you know. Not that _I_ mind. Hope you said said goodbye before."

Mamoru's laptop dinged, the sound faint behind the roaring in his ears and the muffled noises Schuldig was making; he reached for it as fast as he had gone for the phone before, only to feel his blood freeze: no result; either the phone was destroyed or hidden, but with Schuldig talking on it, how -

Schuldig sighed, contented, relaxed, _sated_ : it made Mamoru's skin crawl, made him feel dirty, used, _low_. "Nice talking to you," he said. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

"Aren't you going to tell me you're going to kill me?" Despite everything, he kept his voice cold and controlled: he'd take that much satisfaction from Schuldig, at least.

The shot, weak as it was, startled a laugh out of him. "Maybe later, if you're a good boy," he answered, voice lilting with sarcasm. "And speaking of good boys, I have things to do..."

Light flashed in Mamoru's eyes as his phone's backlight flickered on, the call ended. It took a long moment for him to gather the will to re-check the number - blocked; no sign of Nagi's at all. So. Either he'd been dreaming when he'd heard the phone ring or Schuldig had been in his head; he didn't know, didn't want to guess which. What he _had_ to do was start damage control, contact Kryptonbrand, fix assignments to somehow manage around Nagi's absence...

He closed his eyes for a moment, then dropped the phone to the desk and started in.


End file.
